


all of them gentlemen (they dressed in red)

by amosanguis



Series: Immortals AU: MLB, NFL, & Black Sails Edition [1]
Category: National Football League RPF, Rawhide (TV)
Genre: Additional Details in Author's Notes, Death of a Child Immortal, Episode Tag: s02e02 Incident of the Roman Candles, Gen, Highlander Immortals, Immortal Clay Matthews, Immortal Davey, Title from a Country Song, all part of a larger 'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 04:47:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13474008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: “That’s no boy,” the ghost says, its hair blond and tied with a simple black piece of short ribbon, its bright blue eyes shining even in the late dusk light. “Give him to me, trail boss.”





	all of them gentlemen (they dressed in red)

**Author's Note:**

> \--Title from "Folk Bloodbath" by Josh Ritter  
> \--Part of a much larger Immortals AU that I'm working on, but can absolutely be read as a standalone in which you can ignore that this is Clay Matthews, who goes unnamed in this fic.  
> \--Emphasizing the warning for the (off-screen) death of a child.

-z-

 

 _Killed by Indians_ , the boy whispers.

He grins and the men all around stumble over themselves to keep that grin in place. Wishbone stuffs newspaper in a hat and Rowdy catches a frog and Pete scrambles up some rope. And Favor – Favor hesitates, he’s not sure why, but he does.

 

 

 _I’ve got an uncle in the next town_ , the boy says.

A day after they find him, two days out from Eberly, and Quince has lost half of his earnings he’ll have to get back from Rowdy. And Favor is still hesitating.

 

 

 _Don’t let him take me_ , the boy screams.

Two days after they find him, one day out from Eberley, and Favor is staring at a ghost riding a pale horse – the blood on the ghost’s chest still wet. Favor had shot this man. Had shot him straight through to the heart and had seen him lying in the noon sun, dead amongst the prairie grass. And yet.

“That’s no boy,” the ghost says, its hair blond and tied with a simple black piece of short ribbon, its bright blue eyes shining even in the late dusk light. “Give him to me, trail boss.”

Favor tries to find his voice, but he’s stuck – stuck like a steer with his horns tangled in barbed wire, no where to go and exhausted from fighting. His men lay around him, bleeding and groaning.

Then the boy is screeching at the ghost in a language Favor doesn’t know.

“Come with me,” the ghost says, voice calm in the face of dear Davey’s wailing, “I’ll end your suffering. None who’ve died at your age should live so long.”

Favor tries to stand, but his knee’s bent wrong and his gun’s long been pulled out of reach. Beside him, Rowdy groans as he comes to. But the ghost is off his horse and he’s leaning over Rowdy and pressing a large hand hard to the side of Rowdy’s neck until Rowdy slips back under.

“It’s okay, trail boss,” the ghost is saying. “Your men will all live. It’s not them I’m after.” Then he’s standing and grabbing the boy, now seemingly deflated, his shoulders slumped, and pulling him onto his horse and they disappear into the young night, Favor listening to the hoofbeats until he can hear them no more.

Then, but a few moments later, just when Favor has managed to fight his way to first his stomach, then onto his elbows and crawled until he reached the chuck wagon to use it as leverage to pull himself up – lightning, intense and so, so bright, arcs across the sky, accompanied by a rolling thunder that shakes the very earth beneath his feet.

In the morning, those that can ride out to see if they could find Davey or the ghost. They find only a fresh grave beside a patch of burned grass and lightning glass – Rowdy says they dug down only deep enough to confirm it was Davey, before they quickly replaced the dirt and said a few words – but the ghost’s horse could only be tracked to a creek, with no tracks coming out for a mile in either direction.

The men beg to give chase, but Favor quells them with one question: “How can you kill a man who’s been shot through the heart, but still rides?”

 

-z-

 

End.


End file.
